


Rick's Mind Blowers

by spacesex4651



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Light BDSM, NSFW, No Smut, Requests, Rick Being an Asshole, Rick-Rolling, Sailor Moon R, Shameless Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-06
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-27 09:13:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 6
Words: 7,679
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18736042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spacesex4651/pseuds/spacesex4651
Summary: A collection of one-shots and possibly short stories involving Rick Sanchez and the reader. Most of these are from my suggestion box on Tumblr, feel free to comment and request!





	1. Requests!

Leave requests in the comments!


	2. She Must be a Sham

Hiii! I love your writing! Can you maybe do one where Rick thinks the reader is so beautiful he doesn’t believe shes real? Thank youuuu! :)

 

 

“Hey, Rick. Boy, sure is really especially beautiful out there today, huh?” Morty commented as the two of you entered the garage. 

“Oh, yes, Morty. It's almost unbelievable, isn't it?” Rick replied oddly back. Morty seemed oblivious, but you knew your boyfriend better.

“Yeah, you know? There's something about the air. And just the way the sunshine is.” Morty admired.

“Oh, sure, buddy. Yeah. Sure. B-brilliant. Very convincing.” Rick spat back. Convincing?   
“Wh… convincing?” Morty spoke for you. 

“Oh! Responsive, too! In real time! I love it!” Rick was acting more than strange. 

“Uhh…okay.” You responded, turning to Morty with a questioning look. Just then the door to the garage opened again, and Beth stepped out looking oddly robotic.

“ I’m going to work. Morty, good morning. Dad, good morning. I am going to work. Goodbye.” At lightning speed she entered her car and drove off without another word. Again, Morty beat you to the punch. 

“What's with Mom?”

“Oh, what's with Mom? So, you're saying that she's acting weird? How sophUURPisticated. Careful, guys. You're gonna burn out the CPU with this one.” 

Okay, now this was more that weird. Something was obviously wrong with Rick; whether it was a crazy hangover or he was insanely drunk you weren’t sure. 

“Okay, you know what, Rick? You're acting weird, too.” Morty spoke, starting to walk away from him and towards his bus stop. 

“Whatever, quote-unquote “Morty.” Rick responded coldly. You and him were going to have one hell of a chat. 

“Alright, well I'll see you after school.” Just then, Morty walked into the side of the garage. “Ow! Oof! Ugh! Damn it! I'm all right. I'm okay.” He cleared, before continuing his journey to school. 

“Bye Morty!” You called after him. He gave a final wave before exiting and you waved back. 

“What’s up with you Rick?” You asked suspiciously. He didn’t turn to look at you as he responded.   
“Oh, absolutely nothing ‘Y/N’” He air quoted at you. 

“What does ‘’, this, mean Rick?” You quoted back at him. 

“D-Don’t strain that ethernet cable too hard. J-Just leave me alone. I-I gotta figure out how’ta get out of here.” He waved behind him. You knew his benders could be rough sometimes, but he’d never pushed you away. Normally he droned on and on about how hot you were, and how lucky he was to get with such a young, pretty girl. 

“Rick, come on. Can we just talk for a minute?” You asked softly, coming up to his side to tug on his sleeve. This was the wrong move, as Rick quickly, and forcefully, shoved you off him. 

“Rick!” You yelled as you tumbled to the ground. He didn’t seem to care at all that he had just thrown you to the floor as he continued his work. Tears welled up in your eyes as you brushed the dirt from your palms, noticing the scratched and peeling skin that would definitely leave a sting for the rest of the day. 

“You fucking dick!” You screamed, not wanting anything more to do with him as you stood. You eyes had now fully filled with tears that were ready to fall, and Rick turned at this to find you staring at him in disbelief. 

“Oh come on guys. I-I know my girlfriend’s hot but this is overdoing it!” He yelled to seemingly nobody. 

“What?” You questioned, now fully confused and slightly worried for your safety. 

“I mean the outfit,” Rick wolf whistled at you before turning back to the ceiling of his garage, “She doesn’t dress like this.” He must have been referring to your skirt and tight top, but it was hot today, and you had nothing else to wear that was clean. 

“It was hot today!” You argued back, slowly coming towards him again. 

“And those lips and that hair! You think I’d know my own girlfriend, sheesh. She’s beautiful, don’t get me wrong, but this is just, something else.” Rick commented. Now you were getting offended. 

“Rick I don’t know what your on or what you drank, but it’s really me.” 

“Oh, is it now?” He grumbled, once again turning away from you. 

“Yes! Why don’t you believe me? Who else would it be?” You questioned. 

“T-The fucking Cygerians! S-Stop, j-just-…” Rick sighed, facing you again as he stared you down. “Turn around.” You did as he said, spinning on your heel to face the garage door despite your fear. He seemed to be contemplating something before stepping behind you and running a single finger down your neck. Like always, you shivered, clenching your hands at your side as you awaited his next move. 

“M-Maybe you are real, but I can’t be certain, a-and I’m UUURP, I’m not risking it. Go into my room. Don’t touch anything, lay down in my bed, and p-play your little game or something. I’ll be back for you later, if this is real, which it’s not. Just go.” Again, he turned away from you, and you were left confused as you walked up the stairs into his room. What the hell was he on today?


	3. Sailor Rick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NSFW

Can you do a one-shot with Rick and Usagi Tsukino but maybe use a reader insert? Your call, love your works by the way! 

 

 

 

Your long pigtails blew in the wind behind you on whatever planet you were on now, Rick’s hair moving softly with the sway of the ultra-green grass as you sat on the edge of a cliff. 

“This pretty enough for you baby?” He asked softly, his big hand landing on yours as he used the other to drink from his flask. The view of the trees below you was spectactular, lit up by the pale purple skies.

“It’s beautiful. Thank you Rick.” You commented, watching as the wind picked up again, throwing your skirt into the air a bit as you swung your legs over the cliff. 

“Y-You know, we could always fuck here, s-skip the trip back to my place. There’s no-one around.” He commented slyly, a large grin slipping over his lips. Your cheeks went bright pink as you looked up to him. 

“Right here?” You asked softly. Rick smiled even bigger at this, nodding his head at you. 

“Riiight here baby. Doin it like hippies, out in nature and shit. You game?” 

“I guess so. I can’t see why not.” You reasoned with a finger up to your lips. Rick turned to you and pushed you into the lush grass, climbing on top of you with a gleam in his eyes as he watched you fall. Before you could say anything more Rick’s hand’s were under your blue school skirt, pushing it up over your hips without a care in the world. You gasped as the wind hit your wet cotton panties. 

“Yeah, thats it. Look how fucking wet you are. JeUURPeesus.” He commented, running his fingers up and down the fabric before pulling it aside. Your head fell back, staring at the light purple swirls in the sky as he entered two fingers into you. You cried out when they angled themselves upwards. Pleasure spiked through you when his thumb came to rub at your clit and you gasped again, fisting your fingers into the long grass. When he decided you’d had enough teasing, his hands came to your shirt, placing your bow and broach on the floor carefully next to you before undoing the buttons on your white blouse. 

Next came your bra, and when he was finally satisfied with the view he had of your tits, he began undoing his own pants. Out sprung his massive cock, daunting and dripping with precum as he re-orchestrated himself on top of you. As always, it stung a bit when he pushed his tip into you, and as always, he rubbed your clit to make it a bit better. Soon, he was seated deep inside you, placing his head on your collar bone as he breathed deeply to calm himself. You knew how he could get when he was too excited, and it seemed that neither of you were in the mood for that right now. Rick, as rare as it can be, wanted to go slow, and you could tell so as he slid at the pace of molasses, in and out of your canal. 

His head moved down to nestle in between your bouncing breasts, his lips eventually wrapping around your small, pink nipple as he picked up the pace jut slightly. His hot breaths were settling on your chest, further heating you up even with the cold breeze over your semi-exposed frame. 

“Fuck, I-I wanna see those pretty eyes.” Rick grumbled, looking up to meet your orbs as he pushed into you. Pleasure was building fast as his thrusts despite their speed, and you felt yourself nearing the edge as you watched him above you. Ricks eyes dropped to your boobs as they bounced, one of his semi-dirty hands coming off the floor to grab hold of one. His dirty fingers rubbed over your nipple, his teeth biting into his lower lip as he watched. Soon, his hand moved to your hair, pulling softly at the long strands as he lowly growled. 

“Fuck, baby, I think I’m gonna cum. Gonna cum on those nice tits of yours, y-you want that?” The dirty hand that was in your hair moved to rub your clit, and his words combined with his skin rubbing on your most sensitive nerve, set you off like a bell. 

“Ah! Yes!” You cried, closing your eyes at the feeling as you gushed onto his cock. 

“Fuck yes baby, I gotta, gotta pull out now.” He warned before sliding out of you with a sigh. You whined at the loss and Rick growled, pumping his cock a few more times before splaying his cum on your tits and all over your uniform. You watched as he closed his eyes, tilting his head back in his own pleasure, hand working fast over his cock as he groaned. Once spent, he fell to your side, carefully avoiding your broach as your hand jutted out to grab it. You held it closely to your chest, always so worried about losing it. After you had both calmed down Rick turned over to you, eying the metal lying in between your breasts. 

“Y-You know I could make you another one of those. Stronger and bigger too.” He offered for what felt like the millionth time. 

“My mother, the queen, she gave this to me. Chibi Usa will have a piece of this embedded in her soul one day. I can’t lose it. And I certainly won’t be giving it up.” You argued back with a huff. Rick only chuckled. 

“I know, don’t you worry about me taking it. If you ever lose it though, you, you know who to call bunhead.” You gasped at the name he had given you, flashes of something you couldn’t remember on the tip of your brain; just out of reach. 

“What?” He asked, sounding somewhat bored now as he eyed you. 

“Nothing. I just, thank you. For bringing me here.” You thanked him. 

“Anytime. Anything for my little sailor guardian.”


	4. Toxic Rick/Detoxified Rick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short!

Everything seemed calm. You sat watching another episode of Mrs. Pancakes with Summer on the couch, playing on your phone absent minded for once and waiting for Rick to get home. Friday’s were date night, and you’d had a long week. Suddenly, the glass back door shattered, Rick landing on the coffee table with a bloody nose and wide eyes. 

“What the hell Grandpa!”   
“Rick!” 

The two of you shouted in unison. Soonafter, a green, slimy version of your boyfriend came through where the door was only moments before. 

“Fuck you Summer.”   
“Sorry Summer.” 

They both stated. When their eyes caught you however, their demeanor changed. 

“Oh, h-hi sweetie. You’re here early.” They said in perfect harmony. You nodded, eyes flickering between the two versions of him. 

“Ricks?” I said politely, still confused by the whole ordeal. 

“W-Why don’t you go wait in my room?” They offered, again, identically, as they came forth. Suddenly they turned to each other, eyeing themselves suspisciously before breaking out in yelling again. 

“Stay away from my girl you piece of toxin shit.” Normal Rick warned, taking a large step in front of you. 

“She’d never leave me! W-Who do you think’s in the sack with her all the time? She’d get bored with you in a day.” He commented back. Regular Rick scoffed at that. You held back a scoff too and he seemed to notice. “You can laugh all you want, Senturpa J-76? That was allll me baby.” At this your eyes went wide, your feet shifting at such a personal mention in front of his granddaughter. 

“Lets just leave her out of this.” Regular Rick suggested.

“At least we agree on that.” The toxic version agreed. 

“But, I-” You attempted.

“Go to my room. Now.” They both growled, turning to face each other again as they prepared to fight. Without another word you scuttled up the stairs. Whatever was going on, you hoped it would be done by eight. You had dinner plans, of course, but you supposed whoever won this fight could win dinner as well.


	5. Angsty Rick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> angsty rick and reader where she keeps running into him???

You were literally dying in a ditch; the precious crimson liquid leaking from the large gash in your side. Why, out of everyone, you had the worst luck in the world you weren’t sure. You wondered what it would be like if there really was an afterlife, and if you’d have to explain how exactly you’d managed to die, tripping over your own feet on the walk home from work. The large shard of glass was still sticking out of your stomach, far too late for rendering at this point. Pain had enveloped your entire body now, ranging from a sharp abdominal fire, to a dull ache in your toes. 

You’d like to say that Rick was your shining knight in armor that day. In reality, however, you know that if he had not been shit faced like he generally was those days, he wouldn’t have batted an eye at the dying girl, quietly wailing in an poorly lit alleyway. As the edges of your vision started to drain into black, the thin old man in the white lab coat stumbled towards you, silver flask refracting the last of the light visible to your dying eyes. His footsteps echoed against the cold brick you were propped up against, wet and sloppy as a result of the earlier rain. 

“O-Oh shit. Y-Your in bad shape lady.” He drunkenly pointed out, nearly falling himself in the pile of glass before crutching his weight on the brick. Great dying company, you thought to yourself as your eyes began to close. Trying your best to swallow through the pain, you opened your mouth, hoping something would come out. 

“I’m dying.” It came out more so as a sputtered gasp, but nevertheless it came out. At least you could blame someone for not saving you now. 

“N-No shit sweetheart. Don’t, don’t worry I’ll fix ya. Fix ya right up like a - like a l-little doll.” 

“Perv.” If you could’ve rolled your eyes at this drunk idiot you would have, but the last of your consciousness was starting to grow quiet, and you realized then that those might have been your last words. Everything blacked out. 

Surprisingly, you woke up again, painless and well rested in a room you’d never seen. You recognized the sleeping man next to you, the drunk guy from the alley last night. Had you died? Did this guy really fucking save you? Realizing you were laying on a cot, you attempted to silently stand and make plans to leave. Unfortunately this only roused him from his sleep. He sat up, eyes wide and trained on you as you finished your ascent off the scratchy green bed. 

“W-Who the fuck are you?” He asked angrily, voice low and gravelly after hours of sleep. It sounded more than erotic to your thankfully alive ears. 

“You found me bleeding out in an alleyway last night! Who the fuck are you?” You questioned back, arms crossing in defense. Did he seriously not remember you? 

“W-W-W-What are you doing in my houUURP - r-room?” Ignoring your question, the man reached over to look for something, frowning when he couldn’t find whatever it was he wanted and turning his attention back to you. You really did roll your eyes this time. 

“You probably brought me here, I don’t know. I thought I fucking died.” 

“You almost died, don’t exaggerate. If your gonna be here you, you gotta be useful. Pass me my flask.” Seriously? Looking around, you located the metal flask on the wooden desk behind you and quickly snatched it. He was no longer paying attention when you turned around, his long naked back now facing you instead as he searched through the small closet attachment. In a bold move you threw the container, aiming it at the back of his head where the little bald spot sat; nested between his luscious bright blue locks. The flask hit, and the metal clank echoing off his bedroom walls as it dropped to the floor rang true like a wake up call. Your eyes went wide in realization of what you had done. Panic rose to your chest, immediately regretting your harsh reaction. You tried not to show it when he turned back around. He knew. 

“What the fuck do you think your doing?” He practically growled. 

“Throwing a flask at your head, what the fuck does it look like I’m doing?” 

 

So maybe it hadn’t been the most friendly of introductions. How the two of you even gravitated towards one another again was a true mystery in nature. Again, you found yourself in his house about a week later. Your whole body was sore, your leg particularly painful as you pulled yourself to stand. 

“What the fuck.” You whispered quizzically as you looked around at his cluttered garage. 

“Oh good, your awake! I’m starting to wonder if you keep trying to kill yourself to catch my a-attention.” That same cold voice from the week before spoke from behind you. You gasped, turning too quickly and consequently falling straight off the metal table you were lying on. The ground was freezing on your short covered ass and you squeaked as you made contact with the hard floor. 

“Ow…” You muttered to yourself, slowly standing again to face the man. 

“Or maybe your just a clutz.” He chuckled, walking forward to lend you a hand. You glared back at his brown eyes, standing up for yourself to observe the man. 

“I’m not a clutz.” You shot back, getting to walk out of the garage and find a decent ride home. 

“A thank you woUURPuld be nice.” He commented, rolling his eyes as the smooth metal of the flask blessed his lips. 

“Can I have some of that?” You asked. It would probably take the edge off your headache. 

“No.” 

“Fuck you.” You spat as you left his house for the second time, pulling out your phone that remained in your pocket to call a cab. 

“Your welcome!” 

 

The third time you woke up in his house you were completely done. Angrily, you rose from that stupid metal table and searched for the blue haired man. Again, he was sitting at his workbench, working away at some weird contraption. 

“Why do I keep ending up here?” You asked boldly, a little bite to your words as you crossed your arms over your chest. 

“Beats me sweetheart. Little brush of death turn you on or somethin’?” He asked honestly. Your chest heaved a bit at this and now it was your turn to roll your eyes. 

“Of course not. I’m not crazy.” Once more you picked your phone out of your pocket, getting ready to call another cab to the other side of town. Rick stood, sauntering towards you before plucking the phone out of your hands. You stared at him with a raised brow, no longer daunted by his crudeness as you waited. 

“I’m giving you a ride home.” He finalized. You shook your head. 

“Uh, no your fucking not buddy. Can you even still see? Aren’t you like, 80?” 

“70, and yes. I can. A-A-And I’m taking you home. I’m not risking you staying another night in my garage. You snore.” He snarled. 

“I do not!” You protested back, starting to get offended. 

“Get in the ship.” He barked, pointed at the large rust bucket in the driveway. Without further protest you moved to get inside, watching in awe as the thing took off into the air. You had millions of questions you didn’t feel like asking, and decided to leave it all a mystery as he left you on your doorstep without a goodbye. 

So it wasn’t until later that week that you were finally dying on your own terms, crimson red liquid leaking from your arms as you relaxed into the warm water of your bathtub, despite the pain. Without endorsement, the blue haired mystery man crept into your thoughts, wondering if you’d wake up in his garage again the next morning. All in all, it was a test. If you kept dying and waking up in his house, you’d know for sure whether or not you were dead. The whole process threw you into an uncomfortable lingo and nothing had felt real since the first day you met him. 

Without warning, that same blue haired, cold demeanored man burst through your bathroom door, eyes wide as they found you bleeding out in your bathroom. 

“Don’t you dare try to save me.” You growled at the man, sick and tired of whatever game the universe was playing on you. “I gotta know that this is real. If I wake up in your garage again tomorrow I’m definitely fucking dead, and I don’t want you meddling so my brain can connect the dots.” 

His eyes went wider at this, his breathing picking up as he rushed for a towel. 

“Hey! I said stay out of this!” You argued angrily all to no response. He quickly pulled the towel off it’s rack, throwing himself to his knees as he wrapped his large hands around your arms. 

“No. No, no no no.” He muttered to himself as he wrapped up your forearms in the white cloth. You tried to pull your arms away, but the man’s grip was inhumanely strong and the tugging only accentuated your pain. 

“Are you even listening to me? I said I’m trying to die, which means your help isn’t needed.” You shot again, trying to pry your extremities away again. 

“You crazy bitch! Your alive!” He nearly screamed. Immediately you registered this, tumbling into a panic as you realized what you had done. 

“Oh shit.” 

“Oh shit is right you dissociative freak! Y-Your gonna fucking kill yourself!” His face was contorted into a mixture of anger and concentration as he carefully pulled out a syringe from his pocked, injecting half into each of your arms as you tried to concentrate on your breathing, which to your unfortunate luck, was slowing. 

With an intense burning flowing through your arms, you began to feel the life being sucked back into you, making the pillar of certainty clear in your mind that you were, in fact, alive. When the wounds had magically healed from your arms and he was willing to drop the now red towel to the floor, you growled at him once more. 

“How did you know I was dying?” You asked angrily to the man still on his knees. 

“I installed nano-bots in your epidermis the last time you almost died, you know, in case you did something stupid and ended up half dead again?” That perv. 

“How could you do that to me? You’ve been monitoring me?” You questioned. 

“You really need to learn how to say thank you. I’m Rick, by the way.” He brushed off, carefully inspecting your healed arms in his palms. For the first time, your anger melted away with the man, knowing he had some sort of care for your homeostasis, and you gave a shy smile as you responded. 

“Y/N.”


	6. Miami Rick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> maybe a miami rick one where he's doing some illegal business and he gets too high and fucks you in front of his dealer?

Life was good. Everything you needed was happily provided to you, and anything you wanted was ultimately yours. You lived life in lavish and luxury; waking on silk sheets to satisfy the newest whim that occurred to you in your dreams, filling your stomach with only the most delicious of foods, shopping almost anywhere, anytime at whichever store your heart most desired that day, and falling asleep with the man that granted all of these wonderful wishes. It was an arrangement of sorts. 

You’d met him through the Rick you were previously working for. The two of you had decided to go out for drinks after a particularly grueling meeting. While there, a man introduced to you as Miami, an alternate version of your boss Rick with much better style, had expressed his interest in you. That night, with his pink jacket wrapped around your shoulders as you shared a cigarette in the back alleyway of the bar, he gave you the proposition of a lifetime. Of course you’d waited a week of long dinner talks and compromises before taking him up on his offer. ‘Sugar Baby’ was one way to describe it. You liked to think of it as a way of life. 

The bright white light dancing through your windows woke you. It had been months since you’d set an alarm, without the need to go anywhere, ever, before eleven am. Miami wasn’t in bed, not that he ever was by the time you roused, leaving both the bedroom and ensuite bathroom to yourself. You’d only made the mistake of staying in your room all day once. Miami had guests over often, and you were expected to be around the house, either by his side or entertaining yourself in plain sight. ‘Eye candy is key to a man’s dominance’, he would always say, ‘and you, doll, are the best eye candy in the universe.’ 

Expectations were high. Applying makeup became an every day activity, as well as careful outfit selection and hair styling. You didn’t own anything Miami didn’t like. Luckily, the man had taste. Most of your clothes were the highest of high end. Event and ballgown dresses came from Vera Wang, Versace, and Givenchy, while sweatpants and relaxing clothes came from Bathing Ape, Off-White, and Supreme. There wasn’t a piece of clothing in the house worth less than $300. Your nails were always done, never chipped, broken, or missing. There were eight acrylic nail colors you were allowed to choose from. Two shades of light pink, light blue, black, red, two shades of lavender, matte gray, and white (though it was his least favorite of the selection) were available at your discretion; always almond shaped and always gel, just the way Miami liked. Your hair was never left to dry in the natural air. Most days you blow dried it yourself. On weekends and days that Miami needed you for events or meetings a stylist did the work. 

Your expectations otherwise, however, were the true reason you stuck around. The man knew his way around the bedroom, no question about it. There wasn’t a room you hadn’t desecrated in the 12,000 square foot mansion, or a piece of furniture you hadn’t fucked on. You knew from the very start of your sex life you were submissive. Men had had their way with you over the years, introducing you to fantasies and kinks of their own, but nobody brought out the deep seeded, nearly primal wants and needs Rick did. Though it may not look like it all the time, you truly enjoyed serving him. The way he infiltrated your senses with his low growl-smooth talking and expensive cologne as he gripped onto your sensitive skin like was the last thing keeping you anchored to the Citadel, clutching your hair in his tight grasp as he tugged on the muscles of your elongated neck, latching on with those carnivorous teeth of his only to sooth away the burn with the softness of his lips moments later; leaving him was not only unlikely, but practically impossible. 

Your phone read half past twelve by the time you wandered down the marble steps, confident in your outfit choice for the day and slightly proud of the effort you put into your own hair, curling it yourself for once and only suffering one minor burn. Your small black heels clicked against the beautiful stone, tapered black skinny jeans accentuating the curve of your behind as you turned towards the million dollar kitchen in search of the man himself. The air was cold against your bare arms, the spaghetti strap red silk shirt doing nothing to protect you from the powerful air conditioning. While rounding the corner a flash of hot pink caught your eye. Miami was hunched over the kitchen counter, obviously focused on something on his phone as he was unaware of your presence. 

“Good morning.” You intruded, taking a seat on one of the metal barstools opposite him. Miami looked up, a happy gleam in his eye before he took you in. His face settled to discomfort, eyebrows scrunching in dismay as he eyed your styling choices of the day. Obviously, he disagreed with your earlier opinion. The mint colored toothpick that once swirled between his lips paused, leaving it motionless and limp as it hung from his bottom lip. 

“What is this? I have a very important supplier on his way and he’ll be here in thirty minutes. Y-You think daddy’s gonna get the k-lax discount he wants with you dressed in fucking pants?” Reality flooded through you as the date hit you. The fifth of the month was reserved for a ‘special delivery’, per say. Miami always grew stressed around this time, dressing you up in the sluttiest of ‘appropriate clothes’ and showing you off in the same fashion he does commodities. He noticed the price drop during the meetings you accompanied him to a few weeks after your arrival, and since then you had accompanied him religiously. Normally the whole ordeal was an hour max, however you’d never witnessed a delivery in broad daylight, and fear stirred within you as you realized they were probably planning on staying for a while as discussed in the previous visit. And you were dressed in pants. 

“I’m so sorry, I lost track of the days. I’ll go change right now… I swear I’ll be done before they get here.” You promised, a twinkle of hope and a fuck ton of submission lingering in your eyes in attempt to sway him away from punishment. 

“You better be. Red dress, w-with the flowers. Back down here with that poor excuse of a hairstyle fixed in twenty minutes.” Miami didn’t need to say anything else. His threats were always in the subtext, never lingering far from the air you breathed. 

You bolted back up the stairs, quickly changing into the tight, suit-like red dress. You had to admit it was one of your nicer pieces, with a plunging red flower petal neckline and thin floral sleeves, almost like a flower chain, that lay slack on the bare skin of your forearms. It left enough to the imagination, to your liking, ending a good four inches below the curve of your bum and bore natural sewing lines that accentuated the right curves. You felt like a woman in this dress, and every time you wore it Miami proved that point. Outfits like this changed the way he held himself, and more noticeably, the way he spoke to you. Pet names such as little one and babydoll were replaced with beautiful, sweetheart, and your personal favorite, mi dulzura. To be frank, you had no idea what it meant, but the way it rolled off his tongue was indescribably erotic, and your loans would never forgive you if you went the night without hearing it at least once. 

Once you’d slipped the dress on the hair stylist, a Morty you’d been introduced to your first day as basically yours, began working furiously at the ‘mess’ you had created. In your opinion, it looked fine, but Miami and Morty #5 both disagreed, and it didn’t take much to know their opinions were weighted far heavier than your own. Morty also insisted you exchange your low strappy heels for a pair of much higher ones, pointing out how much Miami enjoyed the way your legs looked in them, and that he was, in fact, quite stressed. 

It took thirteen minutes. You’d barely stepped back into the kitchen when Miami turned on his heels, his cold eyes trailing over your newly rectified outfit. A small smile graced his lips, letting you know you’d done a good job, though he’d never admit it. 

“Much better, d-don’t you - isn’t this better sweetheart?” Your heart fluttered at the name, a soft flush of pink spreading across the apples of your cheeks as you nodded in confirmation. His hands came to grace your sides, fitting flush against the fabric, before he dipped his head towards yours. He was much closer now. Those stupid, obnoxiously flashy sunglasses fell from the poised position they always held at the bridge of his nose, just enough to see his eyes peeking out from over the top. Miami’s smile grew once again, though now it resembled something much closer to his classic smirk than any of his smiles you considered docile. 

“What time are they getting here?” You questioned softly. Asking questions was almost never a good idea when Miami was in this mood. You knew from experience however, that a few nearly whispered questions never did much harm. 

“Five minutes. We need to head over to the conference room.” He brushed off, more so focused on the view in front of him than the question at hand. Morty wasn’t kidding when he promised Rick would appreciate the heels. His eyes were practically glued to your legs and waist, though thats not to say flickering glances at your nearly exposed breasts were absent. He was more of a butt guy. 

“Shall we then?” The proposition hung in the tense air. Miami was still stressed, no doubt, but it was obvious he had found some sort of release within the last few moments and was reluctant to leave it behind, despite his knowledge that the stress was caused by the anticipated meeting, and that attending it was the only true relief he could attain. So he grunted, removing his warm hands from their settlings on your hips, and began his journey down the long hallway. 

You followed two steps behind, just as you were expected to, allowing the melodic clicks your heels echoing through the halls to sooth the burning desire stirring in your core. You knew the dealer well, another version of Rick himself, and therefore knew exactly why Miami wanted you there. This Rick, like most others, had taken a liking to you. He always offered you samples despite your lack of authority regarding Miami’s business and even invited the two of you out to dinner once, though both you and Miami knew there were ulterior motives. To make things all the more complicated, Miami didn’t give a shit who he fucked you in front of, and when it came to other Ricks, barely gave a shit who fucked YOU as long as he was there. This particular Rick hadn’t had the chance yet, and the possibility that he might never only made the idea more arousing. So you breathed in a deep breath, attempting to settle the fire burning deep inside you that dared you to push it. Part of you wanted to flirt; and it was nearly impossible to avoid satisfying that desire when Rick’s were notorious for their honey dripping seduction. 

The conference room had once of the nicest views in the house next to the master bedroom and ensuite bathroom, focusing on only the most attractive areas of the Citadel while still showcasing the entire city. Miami’s neighborhood was more than upscale; he basically owned the whole block. Even the neighbors, who were more than a quarter mile away on each side, rented their mansions and land from him. He was, after all, a businessman at heart. His brain however, that belonged to science. His dick belonged to you. Miami had told you only days into the arrangement he wasn’t interested in sleeping with other girls outside of three ways. 

Miami had everything set up as usual, with an alcohol tray in the center of the table and glasses of water at all twelve of the table places, though you knew less than half would be used. It was only a matter of time before one of Miami’s many Morty’s showed your guest into the room. Miami greeted him with a smile, offering him a drink and a dance before they got started. As always he accepted the drink and declined the dance. You weren’t offended. After all, Miami did have actual strippers for those kinds of things. 

“So lets get down to business then.” Miami spoke, finally taking his seat next to you at the oval oak table. Both of their eyes were shielded with reflective lenses, one almost a psychedelic sunset and the other a charcoal black. You had the feeling, however, that one of them was watching you. 

“I have three samples. You got your regular pink kalaxian crystallite here.” The Rick opened up the first of his three briefcases, showing off what looked to be almost two pounds of it. Considering the price per gram, there was a lot of fucking money on that table. Miami examined it, reaching forward and grabbing one of the four saran-wrapped rocks. “Next, we have our higher end blue kalaxian crystallite from a new sector C farm. They’re tested too, real, uh, CuCl, if you know what I’m- catch my drift.” A similar case with blue crystals was disclosed, catching a bit more of Miami’s attention, you noticed, as he leaned forward in his chair. “Lastly,” K-Lax Rick continued, opening the final shiny silver case on the desk, “This is our executive shelf, green brand K-Lax. Its the highest delicacy we offer.” You’d never seen green K-lax before, or blue, for that matter. His new supplier must be working out well for him considering the new selection. 

“A-And as we discussed earlier?” Your Rick questioned, leaning back now in his chair as he scanned over the products. 

“The samples are in the top pocked of the case. Help yourself, please.” He motioned. His head turned to you next and you straightened up instinctively with the attention. Rick chuckled at this, crossing his arms over his chest before nodding his head over at the drugs once more. “Your welcome to try as well.” A shiver ran up your spine with his words. As far as sampling went, it was off limits to you. You shook your head with a polite decline. 

“Lets move into the - s-somewhere more comfortable to try these out. Grab his coat for him sweetheart.” 

Rick moved you into one of his more private conference rooms. Two grand leather couches sat opposite each other, a long, sleek coffee table situated comfortably in between. The small, dime sized zip-locks were displayed on the table, small piles of each substance collected neatly beside it as Rick’s American Express black card lay abandoned and covered in a rainbow of powdery substances. Miami had already sampled the pink strain and his eyes were tinted with a blue glow as a result. He hadn’t, however, tried either of the new options he had been presented. 

“That green one y-you might wanna, uh, try alone.” But his mutter was barely audible to you, and definitely not within earshot of Rick, who, unlike you, sat much farther back in the seat. So the fluffy lime green powder was inhaled, and as he finished his line Rick’s eyes quickly changed from the light blue to a sweet lavender color. His eyes darted to you, taking in your barely covered form as you perched on the edge of the couch, obviously accentuating the curve of your behind. You wanted to question what the dealer had said, but knowing Rick, and knowing him more so on k-lax, you knew it was better to stay quiet. 

“Holy shit what is this shit, viagra?” Miami questioned, subconsciously spreading his legs to accustom the large boner now tenting in his pants. 

“If Viagra smoked crack and did steroids, yeah.” Dealer Rick chuckled. 

“Fuck, sweetie, g-get over here.” Miami beckoned. Your eyes widened, staring at him in disbelief at his request. He was normally professional, or at least semi-professional, but this was out of line. 

“Miami, I-”

“Get your ass on my dick before I explode.” He growled. You knew that tone, and without having to be told again you rose from your seat, facing away from Dealer quickly before settling yourself on his lap. Miami groaned at the contact, moving his hands to unzip his pants in front of the other man. Embarrassment burned hot in your cheeks, and you ducked your head to hide your blush from him as he began stroking his cock. 

“Take off the dress.” He ordered. Apparently, your second of hesitation was a second too long, and Miami’s hands grasped onto the zipper before hastily unzipping it and shoving it off your body. Now, naked in front of your Rick and the new strange one, you were more turned on than ever before. 

“You good with the view?” Miami called to Dealer, in which he only chuckled in response. 

“More than good. You cool if I…?” Dealer responded from somewhere behind you. 

“Three’s a party, feel free. Sh-She’s got a great ass.” Miami commented as he slid himself inside you. You let out a keening moan, listening closely to his thumping heart as he let out a groan himself. The sound of a second zipper releasing itself echoed through your mind and you felt a gush of wetness leave your core at the thought of the other Rick behind you. Miami began his thrusting slowly, obviously overstimulated. 

“Fuck, sweetie, this is fucking heaven.” He moaned out, wrapping one of his large hands in your hair as you bounced on his cock. 

“Rick!” You called. His fingers found your clit, rubbing torturously fast and small circles over the bud as you picked up a sweat from his body heat. 

“Fuck, that’s it love. K-Keep, fuck, keep going like that.” He growled, taking the hand that was in your hair and gripping your ass tight. A harsh spank was delivered to the flesh and you cried out softly, letting your head fall to his shoulder. 

“Grind on his cock.” The voice from behind you groaned, and without thinking further you complied, moving back and forth on his cock as he continued to rub your nerve. You felt your orgasm approaching, your legs starting to shake as pleasure moved up your abdomen. 

“Rick, I’m gonna…” You trailed off, signaling you were close. Rick was too blissed out to respond, eyes closed as he fucked up into you, so the Rick behind you did instead. 

“Do it. Cum on his cock, slut. I wanna, wanna watch you loose yourself.” Your eyes closed shut as you let the feeling overtake you, humming loudly with your lip caught in your teeth as you came, squeezing his cock for dear life as he used his arms to bounce you again. 

Rick was getting close too, and you watched as his thrusts got more desperate, uncoordinated, harsher. His throaty groans had turned to full on growls, and his nails were leaving crescent moon shaped marks in your ass as you tried to keep up with his pace. 

“I’m gonna cum in you.” It was almost a whisper, desperate and whiney like you’d never heard before as he spilled himself inside of you. Your breathing slowed as he did, finally catching up to his thrusts as the sounds of the Rick behind you getting off turned you on all over again. 

“Go help him out baby. After that it’s round two.” You were shoved off Miami’s lap and soon found the courage to crawl over to Dealer, his blue hair tussled with sweat as you approached. His hand was still stroking his large cock, a bead of precum begging to be licked off the top as you stared up at him. 

“What are you waiting for sweetie? You heard the man.” 

You rose on your knees to find his cock with your lips, sucking appreciatively with a moan as you mouthed the white bead. Dealer wasn’t having any of it, obviously used to quick and messy blowjobs as he pushed you down onto him. The tip hit the back of your throat and you fought not to gag as he thrusted roughly into your throat. You took it with pride, knowing Miami would be mad if you didn’t and thoroughly enjoying the feeling of being used as he got himself off on you. It didn’t take long for him to come undone as well, emptying himself in your throat as Miami’s cum dripped down your thighs. After you had swallowed it all and wiped it off the edges of your lips he stood, moving to sit on the opposite side of the couch as your Rick. Turning, you found both the men staring at you with a gleam in their eyes you knew as a Rick’s post orgasm oxytocin rush. 

“Come here baby. Warm me up again and then we’re tag teaming.”


End file.
